Arthur's Bane
by LyricalSinger
Summary: Merlin was wrong: Arthur's Bane was never Morderd, but someone much closer to the King.


A gift to my wonderful beta, sarajm, as part of the Heart of Camelot 2014 Holiday Exchange. Sarajm wanted a one-shot where it turns out that Arthur's Bane is Gwaine. Here you go – and beware the snark. So much snark! Thanks to Moonfox for the read-through and polishing.

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><p><span>Arthur's Bane<span>

Merlin sat on the ground at the edge of the Lake of Avalon, the body of his King - no his friend - clutched in his arms. Arthur's final words resounded in the warlock's mind: "I want to say something I've never said to you before. Thank you".

"No", Merlin screamed, trying desperately to get Arthur to wake, hoping against all hope that this was nothing more than a bad dream. But no, Arthur was gone and Merlin had failed. Suddenly, Merlin thought he heard something; a whisper carried through the air on the gentle breeze.

"_Emrys_ … _Emrys_," the voice called.

Merlin's head snapped up, almost giving him whiplash from the sudden movement, and he looked around, but the tears streaming down his cheeks had blurred his sight. He could make nothing out.

"Who's calling? Who is it? What do you want?" he cried, as he cradled his dearest friend's body to his chest. "Show yourself."

A hand grasped his shoulder, giving Merlin a fright. He looked up into the eyes of an old man. The man seemed familiar, but Merlin couldn't place him.

"I know you, don't I?" the warlock asked.

"Yes Emrys. My name is Lochru. We met on my deathbed and at that time I gave you a warning. I told …"

"I remember now, you're the old man in the village who warned me about Arthur's Bane," interjected Merlin, recognition dawning in his eyes.

"Excuse me, you young whippersnapper, didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to interrupt?" snapped the old man, with fire in his eyes.

"Sorry", responded Merlin snarkily, "but my friend, the King of Albion, has been killed, and it's my fault. So please forgive me if my manners are somewhat _lacking_ at the moment."

"Yes, speaking of that, may I ask just what in the name of all of the Gods do you think you were doing? Are you an idiot?! Why did you allow Arthur to be killed, and by Mordred by all people? He was there to save Arthur, but no, you just had to play 'all-powerful sorcerer' and get things all wrong … _again_. You allowed your prejudice against Mordred to colour your decisions, and now look at what's happened. You … you … _clotpole_!"

As Lochru stood glaring down at the warlock, chest heaving with indignation, Merlin flushed red and felt his rage rising. He gently laid Arthur on the ground and then leapt to his feet and stood toe-to-toe with the Druid.

"What do you mean, Mordred was there to save Arthur? His whole life led to one thing, and one thing only: He was Arthur's Bane and he was destined to kill Arthur. I saw it all in a vision. And don't call me clotpole!"

Lochru took a deep breath, raised his eyes to the sky and mumbled, "Youngsters ^day".

"I told you '_The prophets speak of Arthur's bane'_. Where, in that, did you get that Mordred was Arthur's bane?" asked the Druid.

"In my vision, I saw Mordred approaching Arthur on the battlefield. The next thing I saw was Arthur being run through with a sword. The only person around was Mordred, so the obvious answer is that Mordred is the one who would kill Arthur!" snapped Merlin.

"Well, I hate to tell you, sweetheart, but your interpretation of your vision was wrong! What you didn't see was one of Morgana's soldiers sneak up, grab Mordred's weapon and run through the young King. What should have happened was Mordred would turn and take the wound himself."

Pointing to the body of the King lying at their feet, the old man added, "But you had to play around with fate, and this is the result."

Merlin stood there, shaking his head and trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he had totally screwed up. Turning to Lochru, he said, "So it truly is all my fault that Albion is lost. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Not to worry, young man," answered Lochru, quite condescendingly truth be told. "Everything has been taken care of. While unfortunate that Mordred is now dead, your King is not. A bargain has been made with the Fates. Look, Arthur is merely asleep. The shard of the sword that is in his body will remain there throughout his life, but it will cause no problems. He'll awake soon, sore and in need of assistance, but all will be fine. Stay here for a few days and once you've both recovered, return to Camelot and take up the mantles of your lives again. You will be safe here, I promise."

Tears were running down Merlin's face again as he looked down at his friend, daring to hope that the Druid was right and Merlin's wish had been granted. Sure enough, he saw the gentle rise and fall of Arthur's chest as he slept on.

A tremulous smile began to break across the warlock's face as he reached over and grabbed the old man into a hug.

"Thank you, Lochru. Thank you! I don't know how you did it, but thanks from the bottom of my soul."

Unaccustomed as he was to hugging, the old man tentatively patted Merlin's back a couple of times and then squirmed to be let loose. He cleared his throat, straightened his clothing and nodded once to the warlock. "You're welcome. But don't make me have to come back and set things right a second time."

"No, no, of course not," Merlin hastily agreed. "I promise I'll take better care of both Arthur and Albion. You've nothing to worry about."

"Well then, I'm done here. I'm off to collect my reward for a deed well done," answered Lochru as he started to walk away, leaving the two men by the lake.

"Wait," called Merlin. "I've got just one question. If it wasn't Mordred, then who is Arthur's bane? I need to know who to protect him from."

Lochru turned to Merlin and said, "It's someone closer to the King that Mordred could have ever hoped to be. And that closeness will be the King's downfall. Arthur's bane is … Gwaine."

"Gwaine? _Gwaine_! That can't be right. Why, in the heaven's name, would Gwaine be Arthur's bane? That makes no sense!"

"Do you doubt me, Emrys?" questioned the Druid.

"No, no," Merlin was quick to respond.

"Besides," continued Lochru, "it was never said that Arthur's bane would be the cause of his demise. Rather, the prophecies simply say to beware of Arthur's bane. And honestly, if Gwaine and his never-ending chattering and pranking and drinking doesn't qualify as a bane to Arthur's existence, I honestly don't know what would be!"

With that final comment, Lochru turned away on a quest for the nearest tavern. It had been a long and arduous journey and all he wanted right now was a large mug of mead. Turning back to take one last look at the Sorcerer and the King laying at his feet, Lochru couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the day.

Merlin watched the old man hobble away, his laughter floating back, when he heard a groan emanating from the ground before him. Looking down, he saw that Arthur was beginning to wake. _Great_, thought Merlin, with a smile on his face. _How am I going to explain this one?_


End file.
